


Between Two Points

by TinyTank



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Action, Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:52:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2427713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyTank/pseuds/TinyTank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vincent these days spends most of his time with Cid on his ship, who has been struggling ever since Shera left. Vincent's not the best at comforting, but he does what he can for Cid, be it stray missions, or just being a drinking buddy for him. Being in such close proximity with one another, the two discover more and more about one another, and at times become rather sentimental.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something is Stirring

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of tend to go on in this, but basically the main point of this story is Vincent and Cid deepening their connection. As they both struggle to heal, they connect. They really stumble through it in the beginning, but it will all work out in the end. I will be posting only a few chapters, which are soon to come.

The light above swayed faintly in the turbulence from the ship, flickering occasionally when the foundation vibrated from the thunder outside. Smoke rose and dissipated in the room, leaving a lingering, old smell hanging in the still air. Vincent sat across from Cid at the table, his eyes on him with a quiet concern that he would never verbally express. He held an empty can of beer in his hand, just one among the dozen that sat on the table around the tarred ash tray. He had his foot hiked up on the chair beside him, and his cape folded over the chair behind him.

Cid sat across from him, leaning on the table, cradling his head in his hand as he finished the last beer available to him. He slammed it down on the table, making an exasperated sound, putting his head down on his arm, looking off into space. “I dun know, Vince.” He sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his scruff, “It’s jus’ awful.” 

Vincent didn’t say anything, wondering what more the drunken Cid had to say. It was hard to see someone usually so enthusiastic, act so defeated. Cid was someone he usually found strength in, someone who reminded him that he did have friends. The two of them had differences, but somehow the Captain reminded him that he did have friends, and people who wanted him around. As crude as he could be, Vincent had a lot of respect for Cid. 

The ex-Turk could only wish he was better at comforting people. He couldn’t be expected to be a good comforter, when he could scarcely comfort himself. He could only offer to listen to Cid and his distress, and look upon him with subtle sympathy. 

“Dun just look at me like that.” Cid scolded, sniffling as he picked his head up, “I dun need sympathy comin’ from you. You got yer own problems… I’m probably just whining to you.” 

“Your feelings are completely valid.” Vincent assured, “You loved Shera, it’s natural that you feel sad that she’s left.”

“Yeah, but that was a few months ago.” Cid said, sitting up and looking around for the clock on the wall, “Wh…what time is is?” 

Vincent’s eyes flickered over to the time, “Almost one.”

“’m tired.” Cid said, rubbing his nose and closing his eyes. 

Vincent pushed his chair back and stood up, gathering the empty cans and dumping them in the trash. He came back over to Cid, who was already dozing off in a drunken stupor. “Cid.” He encouraged gently, “Go to your quarters.” 

“I want Shera.” He pouted, nuzzling into his arm and sighing.

“Come on.” Vincent sighed as well, awkwardly reaching over and taking him by the arm, guiding him out of the chair. It was weird for him to touch someone in a way that wasn’t hostile, but he wasn’t going to leave Cid alone. He put his hand around his middle, letting Cid lop onto his side as he walked him out of the room. 

He guided him down the corridors to his room, and pushed open the door, taking him to his bed. He dropped Cid to his bed after pulling back the covers for him. Cid flopped back, his legs dangling off the edge. Crimson eyes looked over his vulnerable companion, who was already nearly asleep. 

“Cid.” Vincent spoke in a hushed tone, hoping he would at least take off his shoes before falling asleep. No such luck, of course, Cid wasn’t responding. Surrendering to the nagging need to take care of the Captain, he dropped to one knee and unlaced his boots, dropping them to the floor. He lifted his feet onto the bed, and tugged the blankets over him. He looked over him, wondering if he was drunk enough to worry about alcohol poisoning. He was slightly discomfited to have to do this to Cid, not so much because of what he was doing for him, but because he knew that Cid would be embarrassed about it. 

Since he appeared to be sleeping though, he decided not to worry too much about it, and leaned over him to carefully slide the goggles off his forehead. Cid’s blue eyes flickered open, glimmering for a few seconds after catching Vincent’s gaze. His eyes fell lower on the gunman’s face, resting on his lips. “Woah…”

Not sure how to respond to that, Vincent just dismissed it. “Get some rest.” He hung the goggles up on the bedpost. Whatever it was Cid was thinking when he looked at him like that, Vincent tried not to think too much about it. 

The following morning, Cid was greeted with a pounding headache, and a nauseous storm in the pit of his stomach. He scrubbed the sleep from his eyes and rolled over in his empty bed, nestling his head against the pillow. He tried remembering what had happened last night, but he could only really recall was the typical, depressing thought about Shera, and some sinful image of Vincent poised over him in bed. The queasy feeling in his gut summoned him out of bed, and he walked to the bathroom to chug some cold water, and to take a shower. 

He wanted to convince himself that his feelings about Vincent were mostly just driven by his loneliness, and how Vincent had taken the place of emotionally supporting him. It was natural that he would feel an attraction to him, right? Even if Vincent never said much, and sometimes he was convinced that he didn’t even like him some days. His long hair, narrow hips and fair face didn’t make it much easier for him though. Frustrated, he braced his hands against the cold tiles, and let the hot water pour over the back of his muscular shoulders. How disgusted would Vincent be, if he knew what thoughts had been plaguing his mind? Vincent seemed to accept nearly anything he had to say, but the moment it had to do something about him on a personal level, he never wanted anything to do with it. He wondered how the gunman ever had a relationship in his whole life. 

Deciding to leave the shameful thoughts aside for now, Cid dried off and got dressed. This ship wouldn’t run itself. He went back to the room they spent the night at last night, to make sure they didn’t leave any messes behind, and found Vincent’s cape draped over the chair. He didn’t feel like he had permission to be touching it, but he did anyways, knowing that he rarely went without. It was heavier than he thought it would be, and the fabric was a bit rougher than he thought it would be. He rubbed the fabric between his finger and thumb, hanging it over his arm. 

He carried the cape back to Vincent’s room, knocking with the back of his hand, and putting his ear to the door. Vincent never seemed to be in the place he expected him to be when he needed him, but he knew that it was best to really respect Vincent’s privacy if he wanted to keep him around. With no response, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Vincent was still in bed, buried in blankets up to his shoulders, his head tilted off to one side. He wore no headscarf, wearing a plain, black knit shirt with long sleeves that was pulled off one of his shoulders, revealing his neck, and sharp collarbone. His hair was sprawled out over the pillow, and across one half of his faintly troubled face. At the foot of the bed, his boots sat neatly there, and his clothes were folded on a chair at the foot of the bed. Cid let the door close quietly behind him, feeling nervous for the first time in a long time. He felt like he was looking at something he shouldn’t be, but at the same time he was captivated by the sleeping beauty before him. 

He walked over to the chair as quietly as he could, and hung the cape over the back of it. He looked back at the ex-Turk, his eyes falling on his vulnerable neck and collarbone. His eyes ended up falling on his hand, where he usually wore the gauntlet, and looked upon a terribly scarred hand with filed down claws. His skin looked papery and fair, and the veins shown red through the skin, damaged beyond repair from the multiple injections he must have taken when he was still under Hojo. What Yuffie had told him was right, he was really scarred up. He couldn’t help but wonder what was under the rest of his shirt, but also acknowledged it was unlikely that he would ever get to see. 

For the rest of the day, Cid went about the ship, doing rounds in all the main rooms, making sure the storm hadn’t done damage. He parked the ship around noon to pick up Cloud, Tifa, and the kids, so they could hitch a ride on their way south, to meet up with Barret. It was funny to picture Cloud doing something where so much attention would be demanded from him in regards to taking care of the kids. Surely it wasn’t his choice to do this, but, he knew it would also be good for the kid.

Cid personally knew that he would never have children. His lifestyle wasn’t healthy to raise any youngins, and he was a bit too old to be starting a family now. Plus, the little brats would probably mess things up for him. But now in his older years, sometimes he thought that it might be nice. 

The Captain greeted trio at the boarding deck, grinning and smiling as Marlene came running over to him, hugging his legs, whereas Denzel lingered a few paces behind, not as enthusiastic about hugging as Marlene was. “Hey, Marlene!” he laughed, ruffling her hair. He looked up over at Cloud and Tifa, who were lugging the bags with them. Tifa smiled, while Cloud tried to look indifferent like Denzel did. 

“Hi Cid.” Tifa greeted warmly, walking over to Cid and wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek, “How are you doing?” she asked as she pulled back.

“Oh, I’m doing fine.” He said as confidently as he could.

“Thanks for having us.” Tifa said, patting his arm, “Where’s Vincent?” 

“Oh, hiding probably.” Cid waved it off, “I got your corridors all set up for you.” He said, motioning for one of his crewmen to come over and take their bags for them, “Now I’ve got a ship to run, but let me know if there’s anything I can get ya.”

“That’s right, Marlene, Denzel, don’t bother the crew when they’re working and stay out of trouble.” Tifa said gently, but sternly.

Denzel nodded, and Marlene didn’t seem to listen. 

Vincent appeared in the back hallway, holding the door open for the crewman who had all the luggage to carry down to the corridors. From across the decks he could see the familiar figures. He was pretty certain he hadn’t even seen the kids since Sephiroth’s brief return. He stepped inside, his head low. “Vincent!” cried Marlene in greeting, running across the decks to greet him as well, while Denzel looked a little more hesitant. Marlene, who was use to dealing with the Soldiers, Turks, and Avalanche, was hardly ever deterred by people who appeared to be ‘scary.’

“Hi, Marlene.” Vincent greeted calmly as she flung herself to his side as well. He set his hand on her shoulder; letting her go so he could approach Cloud and Tifa. Marlene captured his hand and walked back with him. Denzel on the other hand, seemed a little nervous, but very curious.

“There he is.” Cid grinned, finding it endearing that Marlene had such an attachment to him. Vincent needed more people to adore him in his life. 

“Hello Vincent.” Tifa greeted warmly, “It’s been a while.” She said nothing about the lack of cape, gauntlet and lack of boot plates, thankfully. 

Vincent nodded, looking down at Marlene. He didn’t understand how such a frail little girl could like someone as dangerous looking as him. “It’s good to see you.” Marlene gave him a toothy grin in return, and Vincent smirked upon realizing that she had lost one of her bottom teeth. 

Denzel walked back over to Cloud and stood close to his side. The ex-Soldier looked down at him, then back over at Vincent as he made light conversation with Tifa. 

“C’mon kids, I’ll give you the grand tour.” Cid said, motioning for them to follow. The kids trotted after him, leaving Vincent with Cloud and Tifa. 

“Are you hungry?” Vincent offered after watching Cid march off with the children behind him. 

Cloud and Tifa exchanged glances. “Sure.” Tifa decided, interested in seeing Vincent do something as domestic as get a meal for them. She had really known Vincent when he was acting as a soldier, and it was interesting to picture him living a day by day life with Cid. 

Vincent took them to the kitchen area and fixed them up some leftovers from lunch for the crew, and sat across them at the table with nothing more than a glass of water for himself. He made light conversation with them, though about an hour in, he was ready to retire. At least it was nice to see some familiar faces. Things were rather mundane living on the ship, and it was difficult for him to adjust. It was unnatural to not be on guard, or to not have a bigger mission at hand. Right now his life served no purpose, maybe it was time for him to slumber once more.

The two of them eventually left, and Vincent went to the front deck, mostly to check up on Cid and make sure he was fairing alright, or that the kids weren’t trying to bother him while he was working. He was always a busy body on the ship.

The doors slid open and he looked out upon the clouds leftover from the storm. It was always a beautiful sight to him, and come sunset and sunrise, it was simply memorizing. He folded his arms loosely, and meandered out onto the deck, seeing Marlene and Denzel with a stack of games in the middle of the floor, playing and lightly bickering. 

“Hey, Vince.” Cid greeted, as he always did when he was behind the wheel. “You have a good time with Cloud and Tifa?” 

He wouldn’t call it a good time, but, it was okay. His boots, even without the metal armor over them, still clicked against the wooden deck as he approached the two, crouching down beside Denzel to look at what game they were up to. They had a chess board out, which, from the looks of it, they had no idea how to play. 

“We want to play chess.” Marlene explained, “But we don’t even know how to set the pieces up.” 

“It’s not difficult.” Vincent assured, shifting into a more comfortable position on the floor. He set the pieces up on either side of the board, explaining each piece and what its function was to them. He answered their questions, and got them started, putting Denzel and Marlene on one team, and played against them. Naturally Vincent praised the two of them for correct moves, and downplayed his tactics to allow them to win. They didn’t know he was in the chess club in high school. Celebration occurred when they won the game, and they ran off to go play hide and seek after picking up their toys.

While the game with the children ensued, Vincent was blissfully unaware of the audience he had from both Cid and curious crewmembers. Cid was biting back a grin as he watched Vincent interact so kindly with the two of them, and how Denzel quickly warmed up to him. The woman who assisted in navigation simply adored both the children, and how sweet the gunman was with them. 

Vincent turned and looked up at Cid, now aware that something had happened he wasn’t catching. “What?” he asked, looking between Cid and the navigator. 

“Nothin,” Cid said, half shaking his head, “It’s just that… well… it was really sweet to see ya play with the kids.” 

He flattened his lips, but said nothing in return. He could understand why they would be surprised then. It was assumed Vincent was unapproachable by nature, but, he never really meant it. Just because he wasn’t a cuddly person, didn’t mean he hated kids, or other people. Yet he wasn’t going to defend himself. Not in front of people other than Cid. He stared back out at the clouds. “I see.” 

“I’ve always wanted kids m’self.” Cid started, “But I don’t think it’d be really fair to raise kids on a ship. And I can’t give up my ship. Guess I’ll have to settle for the role of the crazy uncle.” He laughed a little. Vincent half smirked. He could picture that quite well. “Oh, that reminds me.” Cid continued, “Come on up here.” 

As instructed of him, Vincent turned and walked up the stairs to the navigation deck and walked up to Cid without question. “I got word earlier this mornin’ that a Wutai ship is stranded up ahead in the Glade forest. There’s a small clan that has a bone or two to pick with the Wutai, and they’re worried what will happen if they’re discovered. They’re sorta blocked in, and need parts to fix up their ship, so we’re making a pit stop outside the territory and dropping in the supplies they need. You, Cloud n’ I are gonna go in on a shuttle, and get them their things and escort em out tomorrow.” 

A frown came across Vincent’s face as he listened to him. He hated the idea of Cid going out into the field. 

“We probably won’t see any combat.” Cid said, “But if we do, you and Cloud should be fine fellows for the job. These people ain’t very sophisticated, just hostile.”

“Does Cloud know about this plan yet?”

“Not yet, I was gonna grab him after I told you.” 

“I understand.” Vincent said quietly, looking down, “Let me know the details later.” 

“Thanks. Imma countin’ on ya.” 

The day drifted by. Vincent returned to his room after making himself useful to some of the crewmembers with his strength in the engine room. Tired from the lack of sleep, he ended up taking a nap through dinnertime, not that he had any appetite to begin with. 

He woke up to a light knock on his door. “Vince?” called Cid from the other side, “You okay? I texted ya about a thousand times.”

Vincent lifted his head, sighing and rubbing his eyes. He patted the blankets in search for his gloves, and touched his forehead briefly when he realized he wasn’t wearing his headscarf either, not that he had anything to hide on his head to begin with. The door opened and he slipped his hands under the covers. He must have pushed the gloves off his bed in his sleep. Regardless, he sat up, shifting to put his legs over the edge of the bed, keeping his hand under the covers. 

Cid hesitated in the threshold, looking over him. “Sorry, I didn’t interrupt anything did I?” He glanced at his bare hand, and then to his forehead, and how his hair fell messily over one side of his head. Sleepily the ex-Turk just shook his head, stifling a yawn. “What are ya doin,’ sleeping in the middle of the day like that?” 

“I didn’t sleep well last night.” Vincent responded dismissively, keeping his hand under the cover. He nearly shivered, wanting nothing more than to curl back up under the covers. He could never stay warm these days. 

“Sorry to hear that.” Cid said, bending down and picking up his gloves off the floor, handing them to him. He figured that he would probably feel more comfortable with them on. But Vincent just set them on his lap. Putting them on his left hand meant that he would have to bring his left hand out from beneath the covers. “W…What’s been keepin’ ya up?” 

Vincent shook his head a little, smoothing his hair back and out of his face. “Nothing important.” Nightmares, general sleeplessness, the constant noises from the ship and crewmembers that surrounded him, giving him headaches even during the day—it was the typical things keeping him awake that never changed.

“Ya just look so… so… unhappy.” Cid fretted, “I don’t like seein’ ya like this.” Granted, ‘this’ was the only Vincent Cid really knew. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t wish for something more. 

Vincent felt conflicted about having someone directly express concern for him. It was awkward to have people care about him, when he cared so little about himself. Especially now. Plus, Cid needed to worry about taking care of himself first, rather than throwing away energy to a lost cause. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t tell me yer sorry!” Cid exclaimed, coming over and dropping beside him on the bed, nudging his shoulder. The saggy mattress sank in when he sat down, nearly pulling Vincent into him. Vincent subtly tugged the blanket back into place, casting his eyes aside. “Don’t ever tell me you’re sorry because of whatever is going on inside that head of yours.” 

Vincent looked down at his lap shyly, hoping not to get a lecture. Warmth rolled off of Cid, and he could feel it seep over to him, and suddenly Vincent became aware of the closeness of their proximity on the bed. He was somewhat nervous, and somewhat touched as well. He had needed the reassurance. “Cid…”

“Anyway, I didn’t come here to lecture ya. I’m just updating ya about the mission tomorrow.” Cid said quickly before it turned into a sob fest. Not on Vincent’s part, but his own. “Tomorrow we land around six in the mornin’ and taken’ two motorcycles through the woods to get past surveillance. We’ll be instructed on where to go from the ship, and we should arrive with the parts to the Wutai soldiers around seven. By this time, the Glade clan will know somethin’ is up, so we’ll have to get em fixed up, and make a mad dash outta there, and we should be back just in time for lunch.” 

Vincent nodded. It sounded simple enough. “I’ll look at the maps before we leave tomorrow.” 

“Great.” He said, “You want to catch a few drinks? I gotta be up all night, but I figured I would take a couple hours to catch a movie or somethin’ in the lounge, if ya wanted to join me.”

“Sure.” Standing up, Vincent turned his back to Cid and put his gloves on, and stepped into his boots. At the very least he had to make sure Cid wasn’t going to drink himself into a stupor again. 

Vincent followed him out to the lounge, instead of a private room, and sat down on the couch beside him with a few beers and put on a movie. The rest of the lounge was empty, counting that they had a lights out period where staff was supposedly supposed to retire for the night, minus the few dedicated to navigating and watching the engine if they were in air. This rule though, was rather lenient, and was really only put into place so people didn’t make a mess, or have inappropriate relations. The clock on the wall flickered occasionally, and the bar and mini kitchen along the back wall was spotless and unoccupied. 

He wasn’t sure what Cid was thinking, neither of them were huge movie people, but, it was an odd gesture that he would appreciate nonetheless. It was likely Cid was just trying relate to him, so Vincent would indulge him. 

He sat beside him, tucking one leg under the other, folding his arms. He leaned back, letting himself be somewhat careless in front of Cid, since he knew he wasn’t going to get jumped while sitting with him. A few glances were stolen by Cid, patting himself on the back for getting the man to relax around him. He smoked as the movie played, watching some romantic comedy, so as to not drive the two of them crazy with the inaccuracies of action movies. 

A few minutes in, Cid caught a sliver of skin between Vincent’s glove, and his sleeve. He leaned over, briefly brushing his finger over the spot, to test the other’s reaction to the gesture. Vincent’s brow furrowed for a second, but he didn’t move his arm. “What?” he asked, having assumed he was just trying to get his attention.

Cid shrugged one shoulder, and he motioned his head to him. “Why do ya always keep so covered up? Don’t ya get warm?” 

It was quite the contrary for Vincent. He was almost always cold. Slightly irked that Cid was pestering him now about something he was certain the Chief knew the answer to; he just set his eyes on the TV. Maybe he just wanted to hear him say that he wasn’t comfortable. An odd part of him didn’t see any sense in hiding from Cid, and he almost felt guilty denying him a direct answer. “I know you’re curious, but it’s nothing to look at.”

“I ain’t askin’ ya to model for me. I mean, if ya wanted to I wouldn’t stop ya.” He chuckled, “But I guess I keep buggin’ ya about it cause… cause well…” he scratched the back of his neck, looking away. His faced burned, and naturally Vincent’s standoffish response wasn’t helping, “You know I’m not great at this sentimental shit.” He half scolded, “but I’m just tryin’ to say that I wish ya didn’t feel like ya gotta hide from me.”

Vincent was taken aback by Cid’s willingness to talk in such a way. He was at a loss of how to respond, feeling a small stir of warmth within him. It was little gestures like these that reminded him that Cid had a good, strong heart, not often found in people these days. “That’s very sweet of you…”

“God, shut yer trap.” Cid made an exasperated sound, pushing Vincent’s shoulder back, shifting to slightly curl up in his spot. Now his ears even felt like they were burning, “I’m just bein’ honest.” 

“…Do you really want to see my arm?” Vincent offered, feeling slightly flush himself, now that he was seeing how hard Cid was blushing.

“No, no, Vince. It’s-It’s okay, I’ve seen it already.” He glanced back to make sure that Vincent wasn’t angry, and thankfully, he wasn’t, “I saw it when I gave ya back your cape. It’s, it is bad, I admit, but it’s not like I’m disgusted by something you’ve overcome. I’ve got scars too, ya know?”

Vincent was silent again for a few moments, having long since lost track of the movie. Cid was squirming, and saying all the things he needed to hear. Still, he had no idea what to say, or even think much. For Cid to have said the things he did couldn’t have been easy, either. “I’m not hiding from you. I don’t mean to appear that way, but there are things I do keep private, like my scars.” He tilted his head, trying to get a look at Cid’s expression. 

“You’re…you’re not mad?” 

“No.” the corner of Vincent’s lips twitched into a faint smile. He reached over when Cid didn’t turn around, gently scooping up his arm and pulling him back into an upright position. “Now stop hiding.” 

Cid scrubbed his cheeks, nearly pouting at him. “Damn it.” he mumbled, glancing over at him again, all but shaken by Vincent’s gentle nature coming out. He felt the blush on his face only strengthen when he noticed that he was almost smiling. “Fuck.” He gripped his hair and dropped his head back against the couch. Vincent could only chuckle at his response, shaking his head. Cid sure was something else, getting all flustered over his own words.


	2. Mission Success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Cloud ended up being more involved than I had initially intended, but I'm kinda digging the friendship thing him and Vincent have going on. I feel like it's a good tool for everyone to look inward on Vincent's more compassionate capabilities. Also, this chapter is more action orientated. I made up a monster and location, but it's all very Final FF-esque, so as to not piss off people if I have wrongly recalled various monsters and lands in the FFVII game. If you're totally just not interested in action and stuff, or Cloud and Vincent working together and stuff, then you could just skip over this chapter, though I strongly suggest you at least skim over parts of it. Also on another note, I was half asleep when I wrote this so tell me if there are any errors.

The following morning Cloud geared up as quietly as he could, so as to not wake Tifa from her sleep. He slung his sword into its sheath, and left to meet Cid and Vincent on the loading deck. A door cracked open behind him as he walked down the corridors, and he turned to see Vincent closing and locking his door quietly behind him, wearing his traditional cape and gauntlet. His mako blue eyes narrowed a little bit, expecting some sly greeting, or no greeting at all from him. 

“Good morning.” Vincent said instead, tucking his arms under his cloak, as though chilly. His hair was damp, and he smelled faintly like shaving cream. Cloud watched him as he nonchalantly walked past him, taken back by his very civil greeting. It was almost as though he had been domesticated.

“Good morning…” To imagine Cid would have such a civil impact on someone, especially not someone as tough to crack as Vincent was, was both impressive and confusing. He felt guilty for assuming he would be greeted coldly, and so he followed to his side, about a half step behind. The way the gunman moved, just walking down the hall, and how smoothly his boots hit the floor, and the way his cape fluttered behind him was enchanting. 

They climbed the stairs down to the loading deck, and Vincent opened the door with his keycard, stepping inside to see Cid, and a select few crewmen standing around Cloud’s Fenrir, and two other motorcycles, one with a few metal cases strapped to the side and back. 

“Morning, fellows.” Cid greeted, as chirpy as ever, “Percy, let’s do a run through the map.” He said. 

“R-Right, Captain.” The nervous crewman came forward with a small projection device, holding it out between them. It flickered blue, and shined for a few seconds, and began tossed a sputtering interactive hologram a few feet across in a steady, blue light. A red line pointed them down the path they would take across the wasteland, and into the woods. 

“Now this here is us, and here’s about where the Wutai ship should be.” Cid began to explain, “We’re gonna follow this path through the woods, and reach the ship before any real detection. The Gladian’s territory is right about around here, and is most commonly spotted here n here, and way over here, but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t anything in between. So we should be able to get in and out fairly easily. If all things go to hell, we regroup here, and wait for someone to come and find us. If the airship hasta move, then it will move way over here. Questions?”

“What exactly is this Gladian monster? And what’s the likelihood we’ll encounter it.” Cloud asked.

“Well, not much is known about it.” Cid began, scratching his chin, “It’s shy, unless ya piss it off. It’s a huge serpent that’s made tunnels through the roots in the tree, and is venomous, and acidic. We don’t know much about how it fights though, counting the few dumbasses to have taken it on, haven’t returned. Any more questions?”

Vincent shook his head, turning the earpiece over in his hand, and groomed his hair out of the way, attempting to put the device into place, but was having difficulty getting it to stay, and to hold his hair back at the same time. Cid hooked his own into place, watching Vincent fumble with it. “Here, I got ya.” He said after a moment, coming up beside him to fix the device. He was trying to put it in upside down, but he was going to spare him the embarrassment. “Hold yer hair—ah—there we go.” He patted Vincent on the shoulder, turning away, proud that he was able to get up and close like that. “Alright! Open her up!” 

The airship groaned as the latches were let down, and cold, moist morning air rolled inside. Cloud mounted his Fenrir, and Cid jumped on the motorcycle with the equipment and started her up. Vincent, a little less enthusiastically as the other two, stepped onto the motorcycle, tucking his cape out of the way. He checked the gears, and took off his headscarf, and tied his hair back so that it would not get in his face while moving at high speeds. He hasn’t ridden one of these in many, many years, but he could manage. He started up the engine, feeling the vehicle purr beneath him.

Cloud took off first, rolling down the latch and out onto the dirt. Vincent and Cid exchanged glances, and Cid grinned at him, lowering his goggles. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he called to him, “Let’s go.” The two of them took off after Cloud, racing out from beneath the ship, and following him out across the wastelands. 

The sun was just peeking out from underneath the horizon, bleeding a pink light across the otherwise gloomy sky. Nothing was out there except for the ship, quickly falling into the background, and the three of them, racing towards the forest’s edge. Vincent and Cloud took the lead, at each other’s side, making sure there was nothing ahead that would jeopardize the equipment…or Cid for that matter. 

The Glade forest was ancient, untouched by Shinra because of its difficult and isolated location. The trees were some of the biggest in the world, with grey, flaky bark, deep green leaves that created nearly a solid canopy above. Roots covered the forest floor, leaving no room for bushes or grasses to grow, only moss and mushrooms. Long, twisting ditches were filled with a small, flat looking purple flowers ran throughout the forest, just wide enough for the motorcycles to fit comfortably. Like veins, the flowers wound themselves paths all throughout the forest to the very core which once brimmed with mako. Composed of nothing but the toxic little flowers, having no roots, or stones beneath the motorcycles followed the veins along the designated route, Cloud leading the way, followed by Cid and then Vincent.

 _Everything looks pretty clear so far,_ the navigator informed through everyone’s earpiece, _You are approaching the border in a few hundred yards, so far there’s no sign of activity._

“Thanks, Rin.” Cid replied, “Things are looking pretty quiet from this angle, too.” 

_You’ll be crossing into Gladian’s territory in fifteen seconds._

“Cloud, you see anything?”

“Nothing so far. Not even animals.” 

“That’s strange…”

_Five…four…three…two…one…_

And then nothing. The three sailed through the forest without well beyond the border. No monsters appeared, no rumbles, and no animal tracks. Nothing was heard except for their motorcycles. 

“It doesn’t feel natural…” Vincent spoke, his eyes searching the canopy above, and the roots that wove around the ground. Hearing Vincent of all people say which made Cloud and Cid a little on edge. The ex-Turk didn’t speak much, and when he did, it was usually with a purpose. If he was set on edge enough, where he felt like he should express concern, then there was likely something seriously dangerous coming their way.

“Well,” Cid said after a few seconds, “There ain’t nothin’ we can do about it, we just gotta keep movin.’” 

The three of them continued forward, reaching the stranded Wutai ship in no time at all. It was a small shuttle ship, with twelve people aboard, including the crewmen. They had flattened a few trees upon their emergency descent, leaving a small clearing in the forest. While Cid went and helped himself to their engine to get it fixed up, Cloud and Vincent stood on guard, being sure that no one had followed them here. The sun was finally starting to make it beyond the trees, and, it was likely someone would come across the fresh trail they left behind. 

Vincent was still on edge, walking around the ship, bending down to examine the flowers, and then came back over to Cloud, standing beside him. “It’s too still.” he said, trying to block out the sound of Cid’s chatter, and cursing from his earpiece, “There’s almost no animals around here.”

Cloud looked up at him, shifting his weight away. “I know.” He turned his attention back into the trees, “I’m going to explore a little. It doesn’t sound like they’re going to be done soon.” Out of habit, he gripped the hilt of his sword, “Stay here.” he said, and walked back into the trees. 

The ex-Soldier meandered about; making sure the ship was within a good sprinting distance. He hopped from root to root, looking into the cracks, and examining the bark on the tree. There were hardly any insects, either, and there was no sign at all of a monstrous serpent living beneath the trees. A faint and sudden rumble was felt beneath his feet and he froze, listening intently. “Vincent, did you feel that?”

_Feel what?_

Again, Cloud felt another small, slowly fading vibration beneath his boots. He whipped his head around, and jumped forward a few yards, as though he was tracking it beneath the ground. The vibrations stopped, and lead him to the end of a trail of the small purple flowers, where a gaping hole appeared among the roots, wide enough to drive a car through. Cautiously, Cloud got down on all fours and looked over the edge, trying to see if he could see what’s at the bottom. 

_Cloud? Are you alright?_

_Cloud, what the fuck are you getting yerself into?_

As he leaned over, his loosely fitted sheath began to slide up his back, and the weight of the sword suddenly toppled over, pulling Cloud off balance. His hands slipped, and he tumbled down into the hole. He smacked the damp, scratchy wall twice, before he was able to draw his sword, jamming in into the side of the tunnel, and jerked to a sudden halt.

_Cloud!_

“I’m okay.” Cloud breathed in a hushed voice, looking down at the black pit beneath him, “I just fell.” 

_Jesus fucking Christ, Strife! I’m going to beat yer ass for giving me such a heart attack while I’m trying to work._

“Sorry.” Cloud responded apathetically, “Vincent, help me out here. If you walk ahead from where you were standing, follow the second purple flower trail you see. You’ll find a hole, and I’m pretty far in it.” 

_I’m on my way._

_You fell in a fucking hole? A fucking hole! How the fuck did you manage that? Shit, should have asked Tifa to help out instead._

_Cid, not helpful._

_Shit._

_Are you hurt, Cloud?_

“No.”

_Hang on, Cloud. Don’t call out, I’ll find you._

“Okay…” Cloud let out a shaky exhale, shifting his grip on his sword. It shifted, sliding out about a half inch, causing Cloud to seize up in fear for a moment. He didn’t dare move now, no matter how tired his hands were growing. He wondered how far the fall was. Even from this angle, he couldn’t see the end. He could hear his pulse inside his ears now, and he stared up at the entrance of the tunnel, waiting for Vincent to arrive. Listening to Cid chatter with the engineer on the Wutai ship, hearing that things were going well for them, helped him ease his anxieties. Though he feared both what could be lurking below him, falling, and being found by something above as well, he didn’t panic. The sword slipped out again. “Vincent.” He said again, this time with a little more urgency in his voice, feeling a tremor in his knees. He could feel the clay began to give way to the weight. He kicked his feet out, and braced against the opposite side, using all of his strength to keep the sword stuck into the opposite wall, and hold his body up. He hung his head, and was met with darkness, and quickly looked back up to the hole above him. 

Only a half second after he looked up, the little light from above was taken over by a swirling, shadowy ghost-like form descending into the tunnel above him. His eyes widened, and for a split second, falling seemed like the better option. 

“I’ve got you.” Spoke a deep, familiar voice, just before the form scooped Cloud up, and gracefully lifted him from the tunnel, dropping him and his sword a safe distance away from the hole. Cloud groaned with relief to be on solid ground, opening his eyes and looking at Vincent was he fluttered to the ground, back into human form. “Sorry if I startled you.”

Cloud shook his head, pushing himself up to his feet again, “Thanks.” He was still trembling slightly, and he looked down at his feet, not sure if he wanted to move. So he tried to play it off, as though he hadn’t been afraid.

Vincent looked him over, wondering if he had scared him more than the potential fall, or getting eaten by the Gladian. Regardless, he didn’t fret about it. This wasn't the first time he had heard someone calling out to save them. Cloud wasn’t looking for comfort right now, and he would get over it shortly and in his own way. “Cid is almost done, from the sounds of it,” he started after a few moments of silence, “Let’s head back.”

_Alright boys, start her up!_

In the distance, a slow growing hum of the airship engine could be heard, and a soft, warm breeze came and trickled on by them. The engine grew louder, and to full force. Vincent and Cloud exchanged glances, “That was fast.” Cloud said, as they started walking back towards the ship. 

There was another rumble in the ground, this time, something much stronger, and audible, coming from the hole behind them. Vincent drew his Cerberus, and looked behind him, watching as a group of moths came frantically flying out of the tunnel. The rumbling didn’t cease, and instead, grew stronger. A low, hollow hiss came rolling out from beneath the roots. “Cloud, run!” 

_Vincent? Cloud? What’s going on?_

The two of them took off running back towards the ship, Vincent making sure Cloud was ahead of him before he started off. 

“Cid! We need to go!” Cloud said urgently, “The Gladian is coming! Are the Wutai ready to go?”

_What? What are you? Yeah—they’re ready—Shit—Go on, get outta here! Go!_

Behind them, the Gladian lurched out of the hole, an enormous serpent with slick green and grey scales, and a wild, feathery and furry mane with grey and white feathers, and black fur, a long, slick thorns lined its spine in two rows. It had large, empty green eyes, and a narrow snout, many rows of fangs, and a purple tongue. The beast hissed, and reared its head up, drawing the rest of its body out of the hole, the end of its tale lined in feathers and spines. It launched forward after them, slipping between the trees, spitting acid at them from behind, spotting Vincent’s cape with the fizzling lavender liquid. From above, the Wutai ship took off into the air, unable to do much to help the situation. 

“Think we can out run it?” Cloud breathed to Vincent. 

“We’ll have to try.” Vincent responded, lurching up a hill after Cloud, and spying the clearing where the ship had landed, and Cid was climbing on his motorcycle. The moment they reached the edge of the clearing, the Gladian swung its massive tail in front, slamming it down in front of them, knocking them back a few feet. 

Cloud was the first one back to his feet, whipping out his sword, and launched at the Gladian, slicing at its mane, rather than going straight for its head, lined with venomous spines. The Gladian reared its head, and tossed Cloud out of the way, spraying him with acid as he was tossed into the air. 

Vincent snapped to his feet and took aim at the beast’s head, firing multiple times. The Gladian roared and shook its head, directing acid at him instead. He leapt out of the way, and landed behind him, firing at him from the back of its head. Meanwhile, Cloud came down from above, striking the beast on the top of its skull. The sword only stuck in a few inches, stopped by its thick skull, and plated scales. The beast roared again, thrashing its head, tossing the ex-Soldier aside as though he was nothing more but a nuisance. 

Cid had scrambled off the motorcycle and came running forward with his spear with a fierce battle cry and dashed past Vincent before he could stop him. He jumped up into the air, and stabbed the Gladian in the side of its neck with his spear, sticking it deep inside. It roared again, and lifted its tail, bringing it down on Cid to brush him off, but Cid jumped off, landing beside Vincent. The moment Cid was safe on the ground, Vincent activated fire materia, and took another shot at it. It exploded on contact, just beneath its jaw, frying a good portion of its fur, and knocking its head back into some trees. 

Cloud struggled back to his feet about thirty yards away, groaning as the acid finally stopped eating through his clothes and skin. He had a blotch across his abdomen, and one across his left cheek and down his neck, as well as his arm, and right leg. 

“Get to the bikes!” Cid shouted, turning and running with Vincent while the Gladian was dazed. Cloud ran towards the bike, fighting to get his leg to work for him. Half blinded, the beast whipped around in a fury, targeting the first thing it saw—Cloud—moments before he could reach the motorcycles and slammed its tail down in front of him, smashing Vincent’s bike, and knocking Cloud back a few feet. Vincent darted forward, grabbing Cloud by the holster on his back and hoisting him out of the way of the dangerous spines that the Gladian flared out at them, placing himself between the creature and Cloud. The serpent shot the spines out at them, striking Vincent in a few places, and very narrowly missing Cloud and Cid. 

Seemingly unfazed, Vincent roughly brushed the few spikes he had off him, and picked up Cloud by the upper arm, throwing him onto his Fenrir, jumping on behind him. “Let’s go!” Cid said, getting on his motorcycle and starting up. Vincent looked over at Cid, and then at Cloud, who was struggling to function with the pain he was in. He just sheathed his sword lethargically, and started up the bike, and shot off shortly after Cid. 

The serpent shortly followed, and Vincent looked behind them to see its angry form slip between the trees after them. Despite having his own severe wounds, Vincent took the last of his cure materia, and put it into Cloud, healing him for the majority of the damage done to him. His wounds glowed and Cloud groaned for a second, dropping his head as he felt a surge of rejuvenation flow through him, chasing the pain away. He gripped the handles of his Fenrir with more confidence now, increasing the throttle. 

Vincent delicately wrapped his gauntlet around Cloud, being sure not to scratch him. “Watch the claws.” Cloud warned, not looking behind, even as the serpent approached. “Go on Cid!” 

Cid glanced back at them, and nodded, increasing his speed now that Cloud could function properly. Vincent drew his Cerberus once more, and turned around as the Gladian reared its head again, and shot fire materia into is gaping jaw. The monster’s venomous saliva caught fire in a green flame, and shot down the back of its throat, blowing its skull hollow. Its eyes went white as it collapsed forward, the flames devouring it.

“Woo! Look at it burn! Good job Vince!” Cid cheered, grinning back at them briefly, nearly swerving off path.

“Hey, eyes ahead.” Cloud said, scowling at Cid’s carelessness.

“Hey, don’t you tell me how to drive, Kid. I’ve been drivin’ before you were even born.” Cid defended, “Anyhow, we’re on our way back so get the engines warmed up, won’t ya?”

 _Yes, Captain._ replied Rin, the navigator, through their earpieces. 

“Well, good job team.” 

Relived, Vincent carefully returned his Cerberus to its holster and put his other arm around Cloud. He saw the blood dripping out of his gauntlet, and another spot on his upper leg and chest. He had gotten hit more than he had thought he did initially, having been trained to resist pain, both in and out of combat. He could feel it now, the spines that had been broken off inside of him, pumping poison inside, and almost growing. Even so he had no regrets for using his materia and Cloud. 

Wounds, and poisons far worse have been inflicted upon Vincent before, but the only difference is, is that he no longer had Chaos within him to prevent him from dying. He had wished for death many times before, but was never able to have it granted. Now that death was a real threat to him, it was both saddening, and unnerving to him. 

“Vincent, you’re bleeding.” Cloud said, glancing down at his leg.

“Sorry.” Vincent mumbled, taking it as though Cloud was complaining that he was getting blood on him. 

“What? No. Will you be okay?”

Vincent didn’t respond, his vision swimming. He felt his stomach lurch, but he swallowed it down, and closed his eyes. 

“Vincent?” Cid asked now, his voice lighter, hesitant with concern, “Don’t worry Vincent, we’ll reach the ship soon.” 

They road in silence the rest of the way there. By the time the motorcycles rolled up into the ship, Vincent was barely conscious. Cid was the first one to get off the bike, jogging over to help Vincent off the bike, wrapping his arm over his shoulders. 

“Shit, Vince, look at ya.” Cid said, moving a part of his cape aside to look at the hole in his chest. Vincent brushed his hand away and tried to pull aside, but nearly ended up collapsing. Cid wrapped his arm around his middle, “Let’s get ya to the infirmary.”


	3. Friendly Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent struggles to recover. Cid frets over him, and Cloud and the children attempt to show some support for him in their own ways. Vincent is beginning to realize that maybe there's more to friendship than just having each other's backs in battle, and that there are instances where physical contact won't bring him pain, but in fact, the opposite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all kind of in one setting which drives me freakn' insane but it's a good representation of the different relationships people see themselves in with Vincent. CUE CHEESY ENDING hell ya hell ya!

Medical settings and all they contain—needles, people in lab coats, restraints, the smell of sickness and sterilization, were all of Vincent’s least favorite things. When he was forced onto a hospital bed and had the majority of his clothes pulled off of him, Vincent wanted nothing more than to stand up and walk out of the infirmary. From the way the doctor and nurse were scrambling, it was likely that he was going to bleed out, so he mine as well do so privately, and fully clothed. 

Cloud came inside, in attempt to coax Cid away from Vincent to give him privacy, and to let the doctor do his work. Vincent was too tired to be afraid of death, the pain he was in, or the disturbing memories that began to surface in his lethargic state. The last thing Vincent could remember was having his gauntlet pulled off, and an IV being stuck in. 

He had short spouts of lucidness, beginning and ending with various degrees of pain. Sometimes he was intolerably cold, and other times he felt like a fire had been set beneath his bed. Other times he was faced with throbbing, spiny pains that radiated throughout. 

Eventually he came to a full state of consciousness. He wasn’t in the infirmary, but instead, was in his bed, under layers of blankets, with his wounds stitched and bound. He ached, and his chest felt like it had been blown hollow like the Gladian’s head. He cringed when he felt that a needle was still stuck inside his arm.

He turned his head to the side, upon realization that he wasn’t alone. He expected to see Cid, or a nurse there, but instead Cloud had perched himself up on a stood across from him. He had cleaned up well, and didn’t look all that worried about him. If anything, he was apathetic. 

“Cloud.” Vincent narrowed his eyes, “What are you doing here?”

“Cid insisted that someone watch over you for a while.” Cloud explained, leaving out the fact that Cid said having the nurse, or a crewmember watch him would creep him out, “He had to go take care of something.” 

“I see…” Vincent shifted the blankets uncomfortably, feeling too exposed, despite wearing one of his black dress shirts, and having blankets all the way up to his collarbone. The IV had even been switched to his other hand. 

Cloud lifted his stool up and waddled over closer to his bedside, pouring him a glass of water from a pitcher that was sitting on the nightstand. “Here.” He offered, gently handing Vincent the cup, making sure he could hold it. 

It took a lot of self control to hold the glass steady, but Vincent lifted his head and drank from it, handing it back to Cloud, relived to set his head back down. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.” Cloud looked over him, frowning a little. He didn’t understand why Vincent didn’t heal himself instead. Vincent’s wounds were very severe, probably even more so than his own were. Vincent was easily one of the strongest people he knew, and to see him as he was now was unnerving. Though after seeing bits of his scars beneath the smears of blood all across his chest, he knew that Vincent had to have been through even worse. It was remarkable what he had endured. “Cid is…very worried about you.” He warned, “He was trying to fight the doctor every time you squirmed.” Vincent didn’t need to be reminded of how he got his scars, nor did he need his praise, so he kept to a lighter subject. Since the gunman rarely approached Cloud about his private life, he would do the same for him. 

A small smirk came across Vincent’s features. He closed his eyes, his head spinning. That sounded like Cid, fiercely protective over anything he decided to care about. At the same time it saddened him, for one reason or another, that he had become an object of his affection. Cid was a very a smart man, but every time emotion got involved, all common sense tended to be thrown out the window. 

“But um…” Cloud continued, scratching the back of his neck, “Thank you.”

Quick and heavy footsteps could be heard coming down the corridor, a familiar sound to Vincent. He turned his head towards the door, counting the steps to when the door swung open and Cid let himself in with blankets and heating pad. “Cloud I—“ he froze up when he saw Vincent was awake. “Vince!” he exclaimed quietly, turning around hastily to close the door softly, and rushed over to the bed, setting everything down at the foot of it. 

Cloud stood up, silently offering the stool over to Cid as he fumbled around. “You’ve been so cold,” Cid rambled, “I brought ya more blankets, and heat pads… are ya hungry at all?” Vincent looked up at Cloud as he gave Vincent a little wave, and slipped out the door, unnoticed by Cid. 

“Cid.” Vincent interrupted quietly, his tired eyes flickering back to him, “It’s okay.” 

Cid stared at him, his expression calming and he dropped his head guiltily. He let out a heavy sigh and stepped over the stool, sitting down close beside the bed. “I ain’t ever seen someone bounce back from somethin’ like that before.” He said quietly, “Sorry Vince it may be selfish but you gotta let me fret over ya a little bit, please? I just don’t know what to do with myself with you layn’ there lookin’ like that after a mission I sent ya on. Ya have me worried sick.” 

“Okay.” Vincent said gently. Cid wanted to comfort him to comfort himself, essentially, and Vincent didn’t want to see Cid worried about him, when he valued his life so little. He closed his eyes as a lock of hair fell in front of his eyes. He felt his awareness slipping again, and he shivered faintly. 

Cid shifted, leaning forward again to touch his forehead, simultaneously moving the hair out of his face. Vincent flinched, not having expected such a gesture from him. He was too tired to protest. Cid touched the side of his face as well, frowning at him. He took the extra blanket and carefully placed it over his lower half. “Are you hurtin’?”

“Am I hurting…?” Vincent scoffed.

“Don’t give me shit.” Cid scolded, moving to pull the blankets off him but Vincent gripped the blankets. 

“It’s okay.” Vincent insisted.

“We already had the conversation about the scars.” Cid said, pulling the blankets off of him. Vincent insecurely turned his head to the side, feeling his pulse in his throat, despite all of his blood loss. Cid quickly unbuttoned the top few buttons on Vincent’s shirt, pushing any intrusive thoughts out of his mind for the meantime to check the bandages. He buttoned him back up, and turned his attention to his leg. Grasping his leg gently, he bent his knee up and pushed his boxer shorts up a little bit to look at the wrap around his leg. “Are the bandages too tight?” he asked, carefully running his fingers over the inside of his leg, where most of the swelling seemed to take place, “You still look like you’re bleeding there.”

“No.” Vincent replied, his face slightly flushed as Cid delicately put his leg back into place, and tucked him in again.

Letting out a sigh, Cid looked around for anything else he could check up on, and eventually settled on Vincent’s expression. “What’s that look for?” 

“What’s…” Vincent trailed off, staring at the hazy image of Cid over his bed. He felt his face get hot for reasons he was uncertain about. “What’s…” he blinked slowly, trying to remember what he was even going to say. 

“Don’t strain yourself.” Cid said, sitting back down on the stool, “Get some more sleep, ya sure as hell need it.” He wondered if the medication was getting to his head.

The night passed by in the blink of an eye. Vincent hardly stirred as he slept off the poison, and replenished his blood. He woke up in the morning the next day, finding that there was no one beside him, and the ship sounded fairly quiet. He sorely pushed himself upright, groaning as he was met with resistance. He poured himself a glass of water and checked his wounds. He groomed his hair over one side of his shoulder, futilely attempting to tame it with his fingers. But the ends were crusted with dried blood. He wanted nothing more than a shower, but he was sure that wasn’t a good idea.

A small thump hit the door and Vincent turned his attention towards it. He cradled his head, closing his eyes as the room spun. 

“Shh—Shhh Denzel!” Marlene scolded in a whisper from the other side of the door, “You’re going to wake him up!” 

“Ugh, Marlene!” Denzel groaned in return, “Just give it to me.”

“Hey!” Tifa’s distant voice scolded from down the hall, “What are you two up to? You leave Mr. Valentine alone, you hear?” 

“Shoot!” 

“Quick, the picture.”

A piece of paper flew in from beneath the door, settling on the floor just beside the bed. He listened as the small feet of the children patter down the corridor, with Tifa’s boots following at a steady, yet determined pace. 

Vincent couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly. He leaned over carefully, sorely picking the paper off the floor, resting it in his lap. He turned it over, running his fingers over the page. Done in bright colored pencil they had written down ‘Get Well Mr. Valentine!!!!’ The paper was scattered in hearts and smiley faces, and off to the side they drew a stick figure of Vincent with bandages and a thermometer sticking out of his mouth, and Denzel and Marlene giving him flowers and what looked to be wine. He perched the paper up on the nightstand behind the pitcher of water, looking upon it fondly. 

The warmth of the blankets, and general fatigue lulled Vincent back into a very light sleep. About an hour later, there was a faint knock on the door, and Cid stepped in with two rags and a dish of water. The door clicked shut behind him, and he came over, setting the water on the floor and the towels on the bed. He crouched down, pulling the medical kit out from beneath the bed and selected some scissors, and new bandages. 

Vincent rolled his head over, his eyes narrowing a little. “What are you up to?” he asked, hearing him rummage through the medical kit. Cid was no doctor that was for certain. He could fix a ship, but certainly not a body. 

“Ya need new bandages.” Cid said, pulling the covers back again. Vincent instantly became nervous, though he just half glared at Cid as he set everything up. Shameful, foggy and suppressed thoughts about his companion were rising up in the back of his mind again. 

“You have a ship to run.” Vincent complained, feeling shivers begin in his knees. Every time that someone was standing over him like this, something painful was bound to happen to him. “I can take care of myself, or the nurse can.”

“Nonsense, we’ve been on autopilot for the last four hours.” Cid said, sitting beside him on the bed, peeling the covers back just a little bit more. He lifted Vincent’s hand carefully, and cut away the bandages down his wrist. Vincent’s breath was caught in his throat as he calmly looked on, willing himself to trust Cid not to be disgusted, nor hurt him. His fingers twitched, feeling the contrast between his thin, unnatural scarred hand, and Cid’s tough skinned, strong, and hot hand. He remembered once being told that hands can tell a lot about someone’s character. “Tsk. You only got a few stitches there.” He let his hand go, and Vincent curled his fingers in, watching to see where he would be going for next. 

Cid unbuttoned his shirt next, resisting the urge to look at Vincent’s expression. He took a towel and lightly soaked it in the dish of water, and brought it up to the bandage patched to his chest, getting it soaked before carefully peeling it off. The bandage was dark brown, and blood, and residue was caked around the wound, over his already scarred up chest, from where the protometeria was torn from him. Vincent winced, watching as he just tossed it aside. “Now that looks mean.” Cid said, resting his hand on Vincent’s side when he saw how he reacted. “Sorry, just relax now. I ain’t hurtin’ ya.” He bent his leg up again, and snipped off the bandages it for it as well, and soaked the pad off, so as to not rip the scabbing.

Vincent found that he was most relieved to feel his leg unwrapped, since the swelling had been the worst there. But it felt surreal to have so much skin exposed to the air, and to have such warm hands laid upon him—hands that weren’t hurting him, or over clothes. He could have never pictured Cid in a position such as this up until now. Cid took the moist cloth and first cleaned up the broader area of his chest, leading it down his muscular torso, to his side and across his abdomen. He brought the cloth down his arms, and under the palm of his hands, being sure to get it lightly cleaned before he started gently cleaning away he crust mostly around the wound on his chest, and leg. His now moist skin felt cold, but freshened by the treatment he was receiving. Even though it hurt to have him go close to any of his wounds, he found the placement of his other hand distracting enough to keep him from reacting too much. He was padded dry, and bandaged back up in little time at all. 

“There.” Cid concluded proudly, cleaning off his hands, “That’s gotta be better, right?” He looked up at Vincent’s expression as he went to button up his shirt again and blushed. He was expecting to be glared at, or for him to be asleep, maybe even afraid or in pain—something other than a content, almost curious look. “W-What’s that look for?” he said, clearing his throat as he hastily continued to button up his shirt. Boy, he sure did have a beautiful body, scars or no scars. 

“What look?” Vincent asked, tracing his fingers over the bandage around his wrist. 

“I-I dunno. I just sorta assumed you’d be irritated with me.” Cid said, pulling the blankets back over him. 

“Irritated?” 

“Yea, irritated. You always seemed to shy away whenever people touch ya. Haven’t always been entirely sure if because it makes you uncomfortable or if you genuinely don’t like it.” 

“I haven’t known a friendly touch in a very long time, Cid,” Vincent explained softly, “Even among friends; I see their hands used to wield weapons against others. Save for the children, it’s natural that I be weary of physical contact.” 

“Oh…” 

“But I trust you.” 

Cid felt his chest jump leap and bounds. It meant the world to hear that from someone so standoffish, and someone who he cared about. He tried to bite back a grin, standing up and rubbing the back of his head, feeling his ears become hot. “Well, I trust you too, Vince.” He said, “Maybe I can teach you what a friendly touch is.”


	4. Comforts of Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More domestic fluff stuff. Next chapter will be promising.

_Maybe I can teach you what a friendly touch is._ Those words have festered and grown in the back of Vincent’s head for the last few days, branching off into sweet, sentimental fantasies of various possibilities, as well as conflicting, rare sexual ideas and feelings. He was sure Cid didn’t mean it like that, and Vincent almost felt as though he was violating him for thinking about him the way he did. For so long, Vincent had only had eyes for Lucrecia. Inevitably his passion for her remains, but he had fallen out of love for her, though he may never come to this realization, since for so long he had centered his life around her. She was gone, and in the recent years, had truly only became a memory. With Chaos gone from him, he was able to move ahead for the first time in his life. 

Having lived a chaste life for many, many years Vincent found it foreign and difficult to accept these feelings, especially towards Cid, who he would imagine would be quite disgusted with him. These were emotions he hasn’t felt since he was in his early twenties, ones that exhausted him and distracted him, and made it even more difficult for him to relate to Cid when he was constantly trying to bat away his guilty thoughts. It wasn’t even the fact that he found these thoughts to be deviant or shameful, he just didn’t know how to approach them, and was convinced that Cid would not appreciate them in the slightest. 

He dropped his head, groaning as he put his fist against the wall, trying to stop these thoughts. Maybe he was just so incredibly lonely he was just latching onto whoever showed him compassion. He pressed his head against his arm, looking down at his boots. 

“What are you doooing?” Marlene asked, poking her head between Vincent and the wall, looking up at him. 

Blinking at her, Vincent straightened up, sighing. “Just being silly.” He answered, so as to avoid giving her a real explanation, “Thank you for the picture.”

She grinned, folding her hands behind her back and looking up at him. “I did most of the work, but Denzel helped too.” She said proudly. Her face fell and she tilted her head, “Are you still not feeling well?”

“I’m a little sore.” He answered honestly, “But I’m much better now.”

“That’s good.” She smiled again, “Uncle Cid says we’re going to be landing soon.” 

“Mm… are you excited to go home?” Vincent said, trying to get it so Marlene would do all the talking for him.

She nodded, smiling again. “I can’t wait to show Denzel around. Though I honestly don’t remember very much of it…”

“I’m sure Denzel will enjoy himself.” 

“He better!” Marlene held up her fist, similar to how Barrett would do when expressing his determination to accomplish something.

Vincent smiled a little at her enthusiasm. 

“By the way…” Marlene started, “Are you going to stay in Rocket Town? Cid said he was thinking about staying for a few days, and so are Cloud and Tifa.”

Vincent wasn’t so sure. He assumed he was invited to stay at Cid’s house. If not, he would just stay at an inn, unless Cid had intended to dump him there, which certainly he didn’t. Cid must have mentioned it in passing before. “Sure, I’ll stay.” He said, pushing back the temptation to visit Nibelheim. 

“Great!”

“Marlene?” Tifa called from around the corner, appearing at the end of the corridor. She stopped, putting her hands on her hips, “There you are. Have you finished packing?” 

“Yeeees.”

Tifa sighed, walking up to them. She looked up at Vincent, smiling. “Looking good.” She said sweetly, “She wasn’t bothering you, was she?” 

“No, of course not.” Vincent replied.

“Say…Cloud, Barrett and I were going to go out and have get together tonight. Would you and Cid like to join us? You must still be tired…”

“Sure.” 

“Good. I mean, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. But it would be nice to get everyone together again. For old times’ sake.” 

“It sounds like a good time.” Vincent assured kindly. 

Tifa stared at him for a second, before the smile returned to her face. “I’ll text you later, then.” She said, “Come on Marlene, let’s make sure you have everything.” 

“But Tiifaaa.”

“Come on.”

“Oh, alright.” Tifa guided Marlene back down the corridor. Marlene waved to Vincent. “See you later Mr. Valentine!” 

After the airship landed, Vincent found Cid, shyly inviting him out tonight. Thrilled that Vincent had invited him, he said yes and secured the ship into place. He grabbed a backpack full of personal supplies and walked with Vincent to his house, showing him around. It was a nice house, two stories with an attic, and a cute corner kitchen and an open living room and sun room on two different levels. Things were dusty, and a lot of the things were missing. He hasn’t been back to the house since Shera left him, and it appeared that Shera had taken a lot of things with her. 

Vincent glanced around, stepping out of his boots at the door. He set his bag down, walking around in a circle from the kitchen to the sun room, living room, and then back at the front door, and the foot of the stairs. Cid had jogged upstairs, going on about how he use to hate the decorations Shera put up, but now the place felt empty. He looked at the pictures on the walls, getting small glimpses back into Cid’s past. He was suddenly very aware that he was actually alone with Cid. 

“Hey, are you hearin’ anything I’ve been sayin?”

“Hm?” Vincent turned his head towards him, unfolding his arms. 

Cid let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his shoulder. “You want anythin’ to drink? Or eat?” 

“No, thank you.” 

“A’right. Well go and make yourself at home. How’s yer leg?” Cid asked, stepping over beside him to see what pictures he was looking at. 

Vincent slipped past him and took a seat on his couch, lifting his leg up and groaning softly as he let his head fall back. “Sore.” He answered, looking at Cid from across the room. 

Cid smirked briefly, amused by his silly posture. At least it was good to see he was relaxing. “Here, let me get ya some ice.” He said, walking into the kitchen, “I’ve been havin’ the neighbors house sit off and on, so the freezer should be…ah, there we go.” He returned with a plastic bag of ice, and tossed it over to Vincent. Vincent thanked him and placed it on his leg, watching as the man sat down across from him. Kicking his feet up, Cid pulled out his phone and answered a call from Tifa. She was going on about something like the pub they were going to go to was closed down, and she wanted to know if they could come to his house instead. Cid attempted to pass the responsibility onto Barrett, but his house, apparently was nicer. Eventually Cid gave in, and said that as long as they brought the booze and cleaned up, they could come over. 

Vincent had nearly dozed off by the time Cid finished the phone call. He was relived he didn’t have to do anymore walking. He considered purchasing a few more potions. Cid sighed, looking over Vincent, his eyes settling on his exposed collarbone, and then down to his hand that held the ice against his thigh. He looked good in casual clothes, really good. If he cut his hair, he could be a model. Had Vincent been a woman displaying himself like that, Cid would have put his lips to his neck and make him forget his own name by the end of the night. He bit his lip, tapping his phone against his knee. He was considering it now, though he had no idea how to approach another man. He worried about the reactions he would get if he said he was attracted to Vincent. No, not just attracted to, but something on a deeper level. Vincent would probably be disturbed, and if the others found out, they would probably be talking about it for weeks. 

“Cid?” 

Cid flinched, quickly looking away. He cleared his throat. “Sorry.” He said gruffly, standing up. He had been caught staring. “Well, I guess I gotta clean house.” He rubbed the back of his head, as he always did when he was shy, “Everybody decided they’re comin’ over here, so… this place needs some work.” 

Vincent sat up, putting his leg down, and the ice aside. Why did he sound like he was sad? And why had he turned away like that? Did he not want company right now, or was something else on his mind? “Take a break.” Vincent suggested, “You still have time.” Cid just shook his head, and began rummaging through the hall closet, “Maybe I should go to the store…” he muttered to himself. 

Vincent stood up, walking over to him nearly silently now that he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He peaked over his shoulder. He couldn’t even remember the last time he went to the grocery store. “I can go for you.” He offered. 

“No, your leg is still hurtin.’” Cid said, getting out a few dusters, closing the closet doors. He turned to walk back into the main room and bumped into Vincent, stepping back, flustered. “Watch it!” he scolded, trying to sound tough, but his voice was weaker than he intended. He adverted his eyes and tried to slip past him but Vincent stepped in his path. “I ain’t in the mood for games, Vince.” He said, glancing at him. 

“What’s wrong?” Vincent asked gently, searching his expression for any tells in what was bothering him. 

“Nothin’ but the usual.” Cid answered, clenching his fists around the dusters, “Now let me by.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Vincent stepped to the side, letting him walk back down the hall and over into the sunroom. Vincent hooked one thumb in his belt loop and walked back out after him, watching him as he began moving things off of shelves on the mantle over the fireplace. 

“Well that’s too fuckn’ bad.” Cid stubbornly responded. Taken back, Vincent looked away. The Captain was known for having a temper, but it was rarely directed towards him. 

Cid groaned and dropped his head against the wall. He just knew the look Vincent had to have on his face behind him, and he couldn’t sit with the guilt for even a few seconds. “Shit don’t give me that look.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his head again, “Sorry I snapped at ya. I’m jus’ tired, and… I guess I’m frustrated, n’ conflicted about certain things, is all. Nothin’ to concern yourself with.”

“Mm…” Vincent returned to the closet, and helped himself to some cleaning spray and a rag. 

Cid didn’t notice at first as Vincent began cleaning countertops, and moving any boxes out of the way, stacking them neatly. He turned around, doing a double take at the ex-Turk doing such domestic chores and scowled, pointing his duster at him. “What the hell do you think yer doing?” he barked, “This ain’t the ship! This is my house, you’re a guest. Sit your ass down and stop that cleanin’! Take a nap! Do somethin’ other than clean!”

Usually Cid barked at orders at people like: “Pick up the slack!” “Straightn’ her out!” “What the fuck do you think yer doing?” or “Don’t touch that!” He smirked a little, just shaking his head at him. Cid stomped on over, tossing his duster aside, trying to pull the cloth from his hand. Vincent turned towards him, holding the cloth above his head, getting up slightly on his toes. Already being a couple of inches taller than him, the cloth was just out of Cid’s reach. Cid growled at him, trying to reach for the cloth. Vincent braced his other hand against the counter, pressed up against the cupboards as Cid inevitably brushed his body against his. 

Vincent passed the cloth smoothly to his other hand, pivoting around him, and holding it behind his back. Cid reached around him, taking him by his arm and trying to pull it out in front, while reaching around the back of him, his cheek brushing against his chest. Vincent only switched hands again, bringing it up and dropping the cloth on Cid’s head. 

Cid blinked, freezing up in his position when he felt the rag drop on his head, and he realized how he had so carelessly situated himself around Vincent. He was warmer than he had predicted, and he smelled like roses and leather. They were just a small squeeze away from a hug. 

His ears became red and Cid spun away from Vincent, pulling the rag off his head. At least Vincent had seemed to be enjoying getting the opportunity to tease him like that, but he doubted the man knew what other sort of teasing that was to him. 

“I’ll grab a broom, then.” Vincent chimed, slipping past Cid, walking back over to the closet. Cid groaned, dropping his hands dramatically at his sides, staring at glided down the steps and crossed the sunroom to the back hall. 

“Yer a stubborn bastard, has anyone ever told you that?” Cid said, shaking the cleansing spray at him.

“I don’t need to hear that from you.” Vincent said, going into a different closet down the hall, opening doors until he found the linen closet. He grabbed an armful of towels and sheets and blankets, going upstairs to the bedrooms, putting sheets on the mattresses, and towels in the bathrooms. He opened up some windows to air the house out. He stopped in Cid’s study, his face falling a little as he saw the dejected pile of wilted papers from the rocket project. He had diagrams and definitions, notes to self, all pinned to the walls and scattered about. Shera had a desk across the room, completely wiped clean. 

He walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him, walking carefully back down the stairs to hang the remainder towels up in the kitchen and in the bathroom. Cid liked the sight of it, he wouldn’t lie about that. But he did have to get the house a little bit friendlier for visitors. He took out a small notepad and jotted down a list of basic food items to buy for the house. “Vince, I’m runnin’ to the store you want anything?” 

Vincent came out of the bathroom, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. He could trust him to get some good rum and coffee, but he wasn’t sure if he had the dignity to ask him for what he really wanted. “Something sweet.” He said, counting out a few gil.

“Uh-uh, put that away.” Cid shooed him back, not judging him for his request. “Somethin’ sweet it is. I’ll be back in less than an hour. You go set up your room—that is if yer stayin’ with me. You don’t hafta if you have someplace else ya want to be. I know I’ve kept you on the ship for a while now…” He had just assumed that now they were sort of… traveling roommates. 

“Are you staying here long?” Vincent asked, wondering if they were going to be here for more than just a week or two.

“Oh, no. Maybe longer than a week, but certainly no longer than a month. All the crew have gone home n’ stuff, they’re all pretty tired and they’ve already been paid so I think I’d just stay until the end of the month, at the longest.” Cid explained.

“Sounds… nice.” Vincent absently touched the edges of his beaten down wallet, and tucked it back away. It sounded a bit more nerve wracking than being on the ship, in some ways. Finding productive tasks to busy himself with would be a bit more challenging here. At the same time it sounded peaceful though, an opportunity for him to force himself to wind down. 

Cid left to go shopping, and Vincent swept the first floor, and went up to his little guest room, opening the balcony doors and put all his clothes in the top drawer of the dresser. He sat on the side of the bed, listening to the silence of the house. It’s been the quietest he’s heard it in a long time. It was almost unnerving, but at the same time, his mind was able to breathe. He ran his hands over the soft, worn down sheets, and picked his feet up, laying down on the bed. Pains in his leg and chest swelled for a second, and then faded away. Sleepiness covered him the moment his head settled on the pillow. 

The door rattled downstairs and was kicked open. Heavy boots scuffled their way into the kitchen, followed by the sound of bags dropping on the counter. Vincent opened his eyes, and turned his head over to the alarm clock. He had been out for longer than he intended. He sat up, taming his hair with one hand. 

“Vince?” Cid called from downstairs, walking out of the kitchen, and stomped up the stairs. He stopped in front of Vincent’s door, fastening his jacket around his middle. “There ya are. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake ya… you feeln’ alright? You’re pale, er, paler than usual that is.”

Vincent nodded, putting the back of his wrist over his mouth as he suppressed a yawn. He stood up from the bed, following him downstairs to put away groceries. As though he was on autopilot, he placed the groceries into their appropriate places, or what he would assume would be. He hasn’t put away groceries since he was a young boy. 

A particularly…thought provoking dream had visited him in the short period that he was asleep. It was a dream where Cid’s hands touching everywhere. He grasped the back of his neck, ran his fingers through his hair, and secured his hands on his hips as he…

“Vince…? What’re ya doin?” 

Vincent blinked back to reality, feeling his cheeks feel warm. He was holding open the refrigerator, and was just about to set a box of cereal inside. He cleared his throat, and removed the box, setting it on the counter. 

“Boy, your head’s in the clouds. What’d ya do while I was gone that’s got you all spaced out?” Cid said, taking the cereal and putting it in the cupboard for him. 

Vincent turned his head, running his fingers down the lengths of his bangs. “Nothing.” He answered, walking out of the kitchen. He couldn’t look at him right now, not with these images in his head. 

He dropped to the couch, and rested the half melted bag of ice back on his leg. Cid followed him out, standing in front of him, leaning over and trying to meet his eyes. Vincent just rolled his head one way or the other. Frustrated, Cid put his hands on his hips. “Listen, if you found my porn or somethin’ that’s some old stuff n I don’t know why it would upset you I’d like to think I had good tastes unless you found the pictures of Sh—“ 

“I didn’t find any of your porn.” Vincent interrupted before Cid could potentially say something he might regret, and things he certainly didn’t know. Vincent closed his eyes, trying to will the heat away from his face. As pale as he is though, it was hardly noticeable to Cid.

“Oh.” Cid cleared his throat, “Then why are ya suddenly actn’ like this? It’s worryin’ me. Hey.” He leaned over, putting one hand on the couch, his other hand taking him by the chin. Vincent’s breath caught in his throat and he blinked up at him. First he caught his eyes, then briefly his eyes flickered down to his lips. He felt something stir in his chest, and he turned his head away. 

Cid caught where his eyes had gone, and how shy Vincent was suddenly acting. That look was nearly irresistible, Vincent was being bashful. “Wait a minute… I know that look.” Cid said, tilting his head. He was excited now. Vincent looked a lot like Shera before they started going steady, he could only hope the same look from him meant the same as it did coming from Shera. He reached up, moving some hair from Vincent’s face without touching his skin, dropping it behind his ear to test the other’s reaction. 

Vincent didn’t flinch, look confused, squirm, or even glared at him. Instead his expression was still, minus a small twitch in the corner of his lip, he was very controlled, and yet still calm. “What’s got you actn’ so shy?” he asked in a low voice, putting his knee up on the couch, hovering over Vincent.

“Cid…” he said somewhat firmly. He wouldn’t take kindly to this at all if Cid was teasing him. His heart hammered, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at his face, worried what he might feel if he did. 

“Do you know how long I’ve been waitin’ for you to let me get this close?” Cid asked softly, sliding his hand up under his jaw, holding him there. The closer he got, the more he expected Vincent to push him away. But he was just sitting there, so docile, with the most endearing look he’s seen on him yet. Maybe he was just being complacent because it’s what he had to do for so long, but Cid wanted to see if it was otherwise. 

“What are you talking about?” Vincent’s hand hesitated, before he brought it up to carefully rest over Cid’s. 

The front door swung open, and Barrett burst through the door with Marlene and Denzel at his side. “Heyyy Highwind! How’ve ya—“ Marlene went to go skip inside, before Barrett reached forward, putting his hand over her face and eyes, scooping her back. “Holy shit.”

Cid quickly stepped off of the couch, and turned around, folding his arms tightly at his chest. “Ain’t you heard of knocking?” he scolded, “What sorta example you settin’ for the kids?” He turned and walked towards them to let them inside anyways. 

Mortified, Vincent leaned forward and cradled his head in his hands. 

“Should we come back another time?” Barrett asked, trying to look anywhere but at them, yet curiosity was getting the best of him. 

“No, no. Nothin’ was happenin.’ Come on in kids, take yer shoes off though. I just got done clean’ this place.” Cid said, patting Barrett’s shoulder. 

“What did I miss?” Denzel asked Marlene, who squirmed out from under her father’s huge hand.

“Nothing apparently.” She said with a shrug. Her curiosity laid more in exploring Cid’s house, “Wow, Uncle Cid, you’ve got a pretty house.”

“Why thanks sweetie, you want anything to eat or drink?”

“Just water, please.”

“Me too.” Denzel said.

“Barrett, can I get ya anything?”

“Na, I’m alright.” Barrett meandered inside, walking over to where Vincent was sitting on the couch. He stopped, his eyes widened. “Vince!” he exclaimed, “Didn’t recognize ya without the cape! No claw, either? What’s gotten into ya?”

Vincent picked his head up and half smiled at him. “You’re looking pretty casual yourself.” He said lightly, smoothing his hair back. 

“Yeeeah, well, I’ve been doin’ more business lately.” He said, sitting across from him.

Marlene came over and sat next to Vincent on the couch, kicking her legs and smiling up at him. Vincent glanced down at her, then watched as Denzel took a seat next to her. “Mr. Valentine?” the young girl started innocently, “Your hair is so pretty.” She reached up and ran her fingers down the ends of his hair. Vincent smiled a little, letting her do as she pleased. 

Cid came into the living room with two cups of water, handing one to each of the kids. “This is probably the most domestic situation you’ll ever find me in so soak it up while ya can.” Cid said, flopping down next to Barrett, kicking his feet up on the coffee table, glancing over at Vincent and Marlene. He would never imagine Vincent would be good with children, yet, here he was, as tame as ever. Did Marlene understand this was the equivalent of touching the mane of a beast?

“Can I braid it?” Marlene asked, “Denzel’s hair isn’t long enough.”

“Hey!” Denzel pouted.

“Marlene, Vincent’s got dignity. Ya can’t ask a grown man if you can braid his hair.” Barrett said.

“Maybe another time.” Vincent answered gently. He didn’t care for the idea himself, but he had no reason to object to her offer, other than for the fact that he had a feeling it might make Barrett uncomfortable to watch Vincent take part in something so feminine. 

Cid went into the kitchen to throw together something for everyone to eat, leaving Vincent fumbling to entertain Barrett and the kids until Cloud and Tifa finally showed up. Barrett thankfully had no issue talking about himself, and things that he’s been up to, and Cloud encouraged him to carry the conversation with little questions and other gestures here and there. Tifa had gone into the kitchen to help Cid out, and everyone helped themselves to a bit of food. Conversation picked up with Cid and Tifa in the conversation things picked up a bit. Cid opened a few beers for everyone, and they chatted and laughed a bit while the kids ran downstairs to play around with the pool table, and awed at the little, purposeless devices Cid had created while tinkering around with new methods. They would occasionally run upstairs with a remote controlled helicopter, some to scale (and functioning) rockets, excited to show them everything he had, and Cid would teach them a few tricks.

As the night progressed, Barrett packed up and took Marlene and Denzel home, since Marlene insisted that Denzel come with them. Cid gave some of his toys to the two of them to take home with them, since he had no real need for them anymore now that he wasn’t in the Space Program anymore. 

Throughout the night Vincent found it hard to shake off Cid’s presence. Every few minutes he was reminded of the position he found himself in before Barrett came in through the doors. He had been so close, and he wasn’t even certain if it was genuine or not. Just when the thoughts were drifting away in an alcohol induced haze, he felt a hand touch his knee while he was finishing his beer. He experienced both lack of grace, and being caught off guard at once, two rare moments in his life. The Captain seemed to just to play it off, as though it was nothing, and continued joking around with the others. Once again, he was left all too aware of what Cid could possibly mean by this.

Vincent had been dozing off by the time that Cloud and Tifa were ready to leave, so Cid walked them to the door and talked with Cloud a little more, before bidding them goodnight and closing the door. Everything was quiet. He looked back at Vincent, holding his drink on his knee, and resting his head against his fist. Quietly, Cid went about locking doors and turning off lights. He came over to Vincent, taking his drink carefully from his hand and setting it on the table. He raised a blanket up, and draped it over his lap and shoulder, resting his hand on the back of the couch to support himself as he brought the blanket around. As he drew back, he was met with Vincent’s crimson eyes, catching what little light was left in the room. 

Startled, Cid froze up for a second before easing, pushing off the couch and standing upright. “I thought you were sleeping.” He said quietly, rubbing his chin, “Was gonna tuck ya in and everything. Cloud n Tifa just left.” 

Vincent set his hand slowly down on the armchair, glancing down at the blanket. He held back a yawn and tilted his head to one side, so his hair fell behind his ear. Vincent seemed to be in a perpetual state of exhaustion that much Cid could see. He didn’t expect a verbal response from him at this point either. He stepped back, watching as Vincent moved the blanket from his lap, and sat forward to push off of the couch, but he stopped, without even exerting much effort at all, and leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes and cradling his head again. 

“What’s wrong?” Cid asked quietly, wondering if he had drank too much and felt sick. Vincent certainly wasn’t a lightweight or anything, but maybe today just wasn’t a good day for him. “Are ya gonna get sick or something?” He kept his voice low, in case it was a headache or something of the sorts instead. 

The ex-Turk shook his head just a little. But his face was stern, a little too stern to have just been drinking as much as he did. Cid crouched down and examined him, and then it clicked in his head. “Where’re ya hurting?” he asked, wondering if he could get some forward answers out of him now that he wasn’t sober. He didn’t move, or ask him anything else until he could get a response out of Vincent. 

After a few seconds of silence, Vincent raised his hand to rest it on his chest, and then moved it to his thigh. Cid stood up, humming in contemplation as he looked him over. “Well, c’mon upstairs. Ya did a lot of movin’ around today, so ya probably just aggravated yer old wounds. Did ya have any water?” 

Vincent nodded. Cid sighed, and took him by the arm, raising his hand up, sliding it down Vincent’s arm to catch his hand. He lifted him carefully off the couch. The urge to pull him against him and kiss him was resisted as he felt Vincent’s fingers curl gently around his own. Instead, the Captain just lead Vincent up the stairs to his designated bedroom and sat him down on the bed. He went to just turn, and pull his hand away, not wanting to expose himself to temptation any further than he already did, but Vincent still held onto his hand. 

The tiny tug beckoned him to turn back, and Cid looked at Vincent in the dark room, his face heating up. It was difficult to read Vincent when there was clear light, but forget it in this sort of lighting. “Wha—What is it, Vince?” 

“What were you going to do to me…before?” he asked softly, still keeping a steady grip on Cid’s hand, feeling his warmth through the fabric of the glove. 

Cid scoffed a little and shook his head, “Now ya can’t go talkin’ to me like that when you know you won’t like what’s gonna follow. Get some rest, a’right?” But Vincent still didn’t let go of his hand. Cid swallowed, and held his breath for a second. He glanced over him, and shuffled closer to the bed. He slipped his hand up along his jaw once again, feeling Vincent’s hammering pulse beneath his fingertips. He coaxed his chin to tilt upwards, and he leaned down, resting his lips against his. After just a few seconds he pulled back, smiling at him from just a few inches away. “Tell me how ya feel about that in the morning, and then we’ll talk.”


	5. Afterglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things finally settle into place for Vincent and Cid, where together they find something just a little more intimate than companionship.

Just like that, Cid slipped out of the room, leaving the door open a crack. Vincent was left with a lingering feeling of desire. To kiss, to touch, to hold—he wanted it all. And though these moments were rare when he was sexually frustrated, he was left empty handed, and in the dark. Warm fluttering feelings washed over his chest and down his middle. He felt his fingertips, closing his eyes as he tried to imagine what it would be like to hold Cid fast, what his hands would feel like without his gloves. 

The night went on, and Vincent woke up sprawled out across his bed with his head spinning and a certain special need. Bacon was burning downstairs, and coffee was brewing. Cid was cursing up a storm about something likely not worth all the crude words. Vincent took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose for a few seconds, and dropped his hand down, brushing them over his lips as he thought about last night. How did he feel, now that it was morning? Frustrated, in more than one way, and lacking in regret. One could say he was even excited. The bulge in his pants certainly said so. 

He sat up slowly, smoothing his hair back and he rested his hands in his lap, debating on if he should shower or eat first, in case the food got cold. He would certainly need a few minutes to take care of his problem. 

“Rise and shine Valentine! Breakfast is waiting!”

Heavy footsteps started coming up the stairs and Vincent glanced around nervously. That surely answered his question, but he wasn’t ready to just see him yet. He lightly hugged one of his knees, to bury even the slightest suspicion. A light knock came to his door, followed by the door swinging open. Cid was dressed in jeans, and a white fitted tank top. He looked over Vincent, his eyes falling on his exposed collarbone and disheveled hair, briefly captured by the sight. He was quick to shake it off, and he crossed the room, well aware of Vincent’s eyes following him as he parted the blinds, letting the sun come inside. 

“There’s bacon, French toast, and coffee waitin’ for ya downstairs.” He announced, turning around and getting another good luck at him. “Whatchya lookin’ like that for?” He put his hands on his hips.

Looking away, Vincent lightly cleared his throat, pet his hair back again and pinched the top of his shirt together. “…Just tired.” He mumbled, though his heart was hammering, “I’ll be downstairs in a couple of minutes.”

“Sure, sure….sure.” Cid slipped out of the room again, closing the door behind him. He jogged back downstairs to set out some plates, and pour two mugs of coffee. He wiped down the counters, waiting. The clock just wasn’t ticking fast enough. He fidgeted, and eventually he leaned down, his elbows on the counter, and he vigorously rubbed his face, as though he was trying to rub away his anxiety. What had he been thinking last night?

The moment he heard footsteps coming down the stairs, he jerked his head up and turned around in his spot—twice—and finally slapped his hands down on the counter, bracing himself in the attempt to stop looking so nervous. Vincent had always said his acting skills needed work.

“I hope you’re hungry.” He greeted, grinning at Vincent as he stepped into the kitchen almost silently, “One sugar, just how ya like it.”

Vincent looked about everything, smoothing his hair over his shoulder tiredly, looking sleepy, and somewhat flushed. He pulled a chair out and took a seat at the counter, folding his ankles under him. Cid stared for a second as Vincent cupped his coffee and slid it closer to him, leaning in to smell it. He had never seen Vincent so casual before, still wearing the clothes he slept in, his hair somewhat unkempt and grogginess still showing in his eyes. “It looks good.” He mumbled, breaking Cid’s attention. 

“I would hope so.” Said the Captain, shuffling over to sit across from him, scooting his stool up. He picked up a fork and began to dig in, “I haven’t cooked breakfast for someone in ages…”

“I’m sure it’s delicious.” Vincent set his coffee down and poured a little bit of syrup over the French toast, and took a bite. 

Together the enjoyed breakfast, and Vincent helped him clean up, his face heating up when Cid brushed past him on his way upstairs. He played it off until he was out of sight, and he braced his hands against the countertop, hanging his head. He could hear his own pulse, yet he didn’t even get this worked up in battle anymore—so what did that say about him? 

Cid disappeared into his workshop and Vincent tucked himself into couch with a good book, a blanket, and some coffee. After lunch, Cid came by and joined Vincent on the couch, putting on a movie and relax for a little bit, stretching his arms out across the back of the couch. 

Part way through, Vincent stretched his leg out behind Cid, excusing himself for the intrusion on space. Cid didn’t mind, taking the opportunity to make conversation. “Still buggin’ ya?” he asked.

Vincent was silent for a moment, finishing up his sentence on the page. “It’s not bad.” The wound had really torn up his ligaments and muscles, and would take just a bit of time to fully adjust, unless he wanted to waste a precious potion. 

The Captain reached over and gently gripped Vincent’s knee, then moved his hand up just a few inches. Vincent involuntarily jumped, not out of pain, but because had not suspected Cid would grab his thigh like that, nor that it would make him feel how he did. As he fumbled to gather the pieces of his broken composure, his face began to burn. “Cid—“ 

The meek plea wouldn’t stop Cid. He was blushing too, but he was much more determined, and less ashamed than Vincent was as he felt up his leg, stopping when he felt the delicate, still slightly swollen and calloused tissue. Vincent closed his mouth, watching him in his highly conflicted state. “Cid…” 

“There it is.” He said, gently massaging the area, “Shera use ta do this for me when I got hit with some shrapnel some time back.” 

The growing problem in Vincent’s pants made the grown man squirm, lifting his knee up to break his touch. “Well I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” Cid said, turning towards him on the couch. He glanced down at his lap knowingly, though he couldn’t see under the blanket. “These hands are rough, but they sure as hell know how to make people happy.” 

He didn’t doubt that for a second. But for whatever reason, the gunman was particularly shy right now. It wasn’t like he was a virgin, and it wasn’t even how nervous about the fact that it has been many years since he has had sex that was making him so. He was worried that, as much as he wanted Cid, that if he did have him that suddenly he would be taken from him. As all who he has come to love in his life was. Maybe he was just so starved for love, he was turning Cid’s friendliness into romance. Likewise with Cid, since he had split up with Shera not too long ago. It could all very well be a mistake. 

“What’re you so afraid of?” Cid asked seriously, frowning at him, “You’re giving me mixed signals, here.” 

“Sorry.” Vincent said quietly, looking away. 

Cid scooted over a little more, sliding his hand up under his jaw, his fingers sliding around the back of his neck, buried in his hair. Beneath his fingertips he could feel Vincent’s warmth, and his racing pulse. “Don’t say that. Ya can always tell me no.” 

“No… I mean… I’m not telling you no.” he leaned his head back a little as Vincent got up on a knee and got up closer to him. He reached up nervously, gripping Cid’s jacket lightly, unsure what to do with himself before his lips met Cid’s. 

This was a temptation he shouldn’t indulge in, but when he felt Cid’s hands in his hair he knew that would see this through. Cid’s lips moved to his neck, his scruff brushed against his skin and he felt his hot breath and soft mouth against him. Cid’s other hand skillfully gathered up Vincent’s hair and pulled it over his opposite shoulder, tilting Vincent’s head to the side. Vincent surrendered his neck and collarbone to the Captain, eyes closed, softly moaning. 

Vincent didn’t know what to do with his hands. He shyly explored Cid’s chest over his thin fabric, his fingers brushing up over his collarbone and around his muscular sides, dragging his fingers along. Feeling Cid like this was both familiar and not to him, and he wasn’t certain if what he would be any match compared to the other lovers Cid has had. 

Cid pulled his lips away, flushed, and breathing heavier. He ceased Vincent by the shirt and unbuttoned the very top and stopped, looking up at Vincent, as though waiting for his explicit permission. Vincent nodded and sat back a little, drawing his hands to his shirt and unbuttoning the rest for Cid. Cid’s eyes were on him, drawn to his muscular yet slim body, and how soft his skin looked outside of the scar on his chest, that looked like at one time a part of his chest had cracked and fallen away. He took him by the hips and ran his hands up the sides of his body, feeling the feminine curve in his torso. 

He sat up, pulling their bodies together, feeling Vincent’s bulge against his hip. For someone who has endured so much, Vincent felt awfully delicate like this, and he wanted to give him everything. “Yer beautiful.” 

“Quiet.” Vincent whispered, sliding Cid’s jacket off his shoulders, and raked his fingers down his back, feeling his chest rise and brush against him in response. Vincent shifted around so Cid’s back was against the couch, and he pushed him back, kissing his lips, his jaw and nibbled his ear. Cid shivered and shifted, happily giving himself to Vincent. Every touch felt new to him, having gone so long without. Never did he imagine that he would be honored with such Vincent’s physical affection, for how could someone like Vincent ever desire a scruffy man like him? “Hey…lend me your hands.”

“You have my hands.” Vincent murmured against his neck, rubbing his thumbs against the inside of Cid’s hips. Cid nearly moaned, taking a deep breath to compose himself. 

“No,” he took Vincent’s hands, “I want nothing between us.”

Vincent sat back and looked at him with a somewhat serious expression, nervousness rising inside him again. “There is always going to be things between us.”

“Yeah, but these don’t need to be one of em.” Gently Cid unbuckled a few straps on Vincent’s gloves, one hand at a time, and pulled them off him. He took his scarred hand and raised it to his face, cradling it against his cheek, kissing his palm. “As I said. Yer beautiful. Every bit of you.” The gunman was still, feeling nothing but his own heartbeat and his own breathing, feeling the comfort from Cid’s loving words, but the habitual fear arising from his vulnerability. Cid placed Vincent’s hand on his chest and smiled softly at him, with patience he didn’t see often. “It’s okay, Vince.” 

Vincent tucked his hair behind his ear and exhaled. He placed his hand back on Cid’s chest, feeling his strong chest, his hammering heart and his warm skin all directly against his skin. Cid pulled him against his body again and began to kiss him again. 

Every kiss set upon Vincent’s skin replaced a small amount of anxiety and sadness with excitement and desire. Cid groped him and kissed him wherever his lips could reach. Just before Vincent was about to beg for the attention his body demanded, Cid’s hands found his belt and he unbuckled him, feeling his cock from the tip down to his ball. Vincent shivered moaned softly, relieved to be touched but at the same time he just wanted more. 

“Never thought you’d be this excited.” He teased, gripping him. Or this big he thought.

Vincent moaned softly again, putting his head against the side of the couch. He unbuckled Cid’s utility belt and let it down to the floor. He unbuckled his other belt and pants, and groped him in return. Cid grunted and chuckled a little, amused by the frustrated retaliation. Cid took Vincent by the middle and swung him off his lap, dropping him back first onto the couch. “You think you’re frustrated now,” He breathed, kneeling between Vincent’s legs, bracing one hand on the arm rest just by Vincent’s head. He leaned down and kissed his hungry lips for a fleeting second, and stepped off the couch. “I’ll make you beg for it.”

He whipped off his tank top and ran his hands down Vincent’s torso, and pulled his pants off without much difficulty. He grabbed a small tube from his utility belt and knelt into position between Vincent’s legs. “Mineral oil. Perfectly safe.” He assured, popping the cap off with his thumb. He put a little in his hands and began to work Vincent’s shaft, kissing his chest and neck, making him writhe beneath him. After shifting him into position, no begging involved, and he put a generous dollop of lube on the tips of his two fingers and rubbed it over Vincent’s entrance. With nothing but Vincent's comfort in mind, he coated his member and slowly pushed inside him, bringing his legs more towards his chest as he went in to ensure that he wouldn't clench.

Vincent inhaled and arched his chest in such a way Cid thought he would only ever see in dreams. He leaned down and kissed the man's neck and ears, burying himself inside him. Vincent held the back of his shoulders, feeling him inside with every breath and twitch. Slowly Cid rocked his hips, moving only a few inches at a time for him. It took a lot of will not to go to town on the man, he was tighter and more responsive than anything he has ever felt before. 

With Vincent's permission he increased his speed and the depth of his thrusts, drawing moans from the raven haired male's lips. His hair was a mess around him, his one arm draped over his eyes, and his chin was up with his neck exposed. Cid pinned his hand over his head, grunting quietly as he fell into rhythm. He grabbed his member and stroked him, listening to Vincent's moans become filled with desperation with each stroke. 

He tried to warn him to slow down, but the urgency in his voice was from pleasure, driving Cid mad with passion. His thrusts became harder and faster and his hand fumbled to stroke his shaft, distracted by his own pleasure and how he felt around him. Vincent's nails dug into his back and his body twisted and arched, unable to contain the pleasure inside, he spilled into Cid's hand, and shot over his belly and chest, panting and spasming with a powerful orgasm. The feeling of Vincent tighten and release around him, the way he breathed and the expression on his face was enough to push Cid over the edge just the same. He groaned and pulled out, letting out his load on the inside of Vincent's leg. He stroked himself a few times, his hips twitching with the heightened sensitivity, and the warm glow that proceeded the orgasm. 

Cid panted and Vincent was quiet, just laying still for a few moments while he adjusted. He leaned down over Vincent and kissed his neck a few more gentle times, running his hands over his abdomen and up his ribs, feeling his pulse, and the small twitching responses.

This was all he could really ask for of Vincent, Cid decided. He had the man's companionship, and that was enough for him, but now he had his body, and shared in his pleasure. He smiled down at him, taking him by the chin and softly kissing his lips. To share in Vincent's space was a gift he never thought he would receive. It was messy, both literally and metaphorically, but it resulted in pleasure, excitement and relaxation. He didn't care what the others may say, he was just happy to have this moment with him. “Hey...” he whispered.

“What?” Vincent muttered, opening his eyes slowly.

Cid smiled a little more, his eyes softening. “Nothin.'” he whispered, kissing the side of his lips, “Will you stay with me for a little while longer?”

“Yeah.”

Vincent reached over him and folded his arms over his neck, pulling him down against his chest. He set his legs down, his ankles hooking over Cid's, and his arms folded over his back. Cid rest his head on his chest, and Vincent closed his eyes, enjoying his warmth and company.


End file.
